*****119:

Doctor Armani and Michael came up to Tracy's house after she got home from the hospital. She was out on her small patio, which had now been accommodated with small wicker lounge chairs and other comfortable patio furniture. The older boys were out on the grass beyond, on the golf course, playing trucks. They had built a fort out of sticks and things they'd found. The twins were in their walkers, pushing around the patio solemnly, like caged bears trying to see what the boys were up to.

Doctor Armani was the first one in the door and she rushed to Tracy, even though she'd seen her the day before, grabbed her face and stared into her eyes. "Clear." She said. "Normal aura. No sparking."

Michel squeezed his bulk into one of the patio chairs with a grimace and reached in the available wet bar at his side and pulled out a diet pop.

Tracy's eyebrows ascended in a mock scold. They met his. He shrugged. "Don't you say a word." He said and waved a hand at her.

Tracy pursed her lips and shook her head in surrender. He was the one who had equipped the place with the wet bar. Tracy herself never drank pop, only herbal teas, and she only let the children have regenerative shakes and natural juices. "I'm not your judge." She said, referring to the fact that most Mormons refused to drink caffeinated drinks. Not Michael's weight, which was also an issue, but one he was well aware of.

"Let's get right down to it, babe." He said and lifted his drink to her in a salute.

Doctor Armani had situated herself with one hip leaning against the table, under the umbrella, so she could view the entire scene, including the children. "First of all, we need to identify the trigger."

"I got mad at Michael." Tracy said simply not looking at the man in question. "Then I did something rash and impulsive and it back fired on me and the build got out of control."

"That's because she is rash and impulsive." Michael said.

Armani waved a hand at him to shush him. "What rash thing did you do?"

"I asked Greg, one of the guys in my band who I kinda sensed has a crush on me, I asked him up to my office for a awhile after practice and he thought I wanted to start something so he made a move, and it triggered a lot of—of memories... and I couldn't handle the build. So he left, and I called Richard, and I passed out and woke up in the hospital with Austin lying next to me in a fairly compromising position, which I don't ever want to repeat."

"Let me explain." Armani chuckled. "Austin's capability isn't strong enough to diffuse you on that kind of a build. We did use a magnetic bed, and had other magnets on your body, but that wasn't enough to ground you as quickly as we'd like, so Austin came, but just touching you with a hand, or even his arms around you wasn't doing the trick, so I had him lay next to you, and eventually I had him strip down skin on skin and hold you. It only took a few minutes once that got started. Believe me, it was an embarrassing situation for him as well, and I'm sure you've seen the tabloids this morning."

"No, are you serious? I'll sue their sorry asses." Tracy cried. "How dare they? That was a life and death event."

"You don't give them anything else." Michael said. "And getting out of the business isn't going to help." He cited a few stars who had tried to go underground while either having their families or some other reason, and none worked. The press hounded them mercilessly until they took some kind of action. They made deals with major reputable magazines to interview periodically, they made guest appearances on larger reputable talk shows, and then... because a better version of the truth was out there, the tabloids fuel was as stupid as it looked.

"I've set up a couple of interviews for you to meet with editors of Rolling Stone and Newsweek."

"Not Redbook, or Good Housekeeping?" Tracy frowned. "You'd think I wanted to—"

"Okay, I'll contact one of those, but they're not your genre."

"I am a mother, and-"

"A housekeeper?"

"Yeah." She shot back at him and Armani glanced quickly at Tracy's aura and smiled.

"This is it." She said and laughed slapping her forehead with her hand.

"This is it, what?" Tracy turned bewildered eyes on the doctor.

"You are rebelling against your authority figure and the outcome will be adult independence, but right now.... You are the teenager, and he's your daddy."

"Bullshit." Michael said bowing his head and shaking it in annoyance.

Armani went to him and placed a hand on his shoulder as she leaned companionably against his side, again the hip on the arm of the chair. "That's a good thing. At least we can see what is happening. It's easily counseled or coped with. In this case, once aware....I'm sure Tracy can see for herself what she's doing and adjust her emotions to ride more smoothly."

Tracy had turned introspective, feeling the sudden hostility, and then realizing that it was directed at Michael's careless handling of her life as if he... owned her.....She nodded. He doesn't own me.... she thought, he's just trying to help me.... he's doing his job, and you've given him that authority over you all along, why wouldn't he be this way? It's no threat. He's good at his job and he knows the industry, you've always trusted him. You're going to have to keep trusting him.

"I'm sorry Michael." She said then as he was getting worked up to refute Armani's words. He looked up at her and her eyes were once again clear. She smiled radiantly. "She's right. But I can see it now. And I can stop it."

"I'm only proposing what I feel is in your best interests. I don't care about the money. I have enough money, it's the show, and the artist that interest me these days."

"And it's preserving the integrity of my family that interests me. I feel that too much industry will take its toll on my family, even intrude. If there is a way to include a small amount of industry into the scope of things I am... willing to do it. But.... There needs to be some kind of communication about this. I can't donate all my time to the industry."

"Will you perform?"

"Once in awhile." She conceded.

"Will you promote?"

"Only on the basis of what you just said about the more reputable mags having my words, etc."

"Will you act?"

"No. Not right now. The twins are too little, I am still nursing them. They take up so much of my time."

Michael and Armani looked over at the twins in question. Megan, with a little more hair than her sister was frantically trying to climb out of the walker and her focus was obviously on the boys. She wasn't crying in frustration, she was puzzling out the situation. Melia on the other hand had scooted over to a planter with flowers situated on the wall nearby and was fingering a flower petal in interest. As one, both pairs of eyes also looked out to the grassy area where four little boys were busily plowing bushes and shouting orders to each other. Satisfied, contented, normal children. They couldn't deny that she was providing the right thing for these, and that this was an outlet as well.

"Will you interview? Will you practice with Stuart and Yvonne?"

Tracy's eyes had a far away look when Michael glanced up at her finally after having tried not to catch her eye for most of the conversation. Armani was right, and he realized it in that instant, and what he had always feared would happen had already happened. He was hooked, a Tracy link. How he had resisted, watched it, guarded against it, as he'd seen others fall into her charm. He'd wanted to keep it professional, not to be snared into becoming part of her in that way. But here they were, having a fight, and here he was whining unprofessionally about.... Her understanding him. If it wasn't for that forged link, there would be no reason to care. In all fairness, it hadn't been something she'd sought, but had simply fallen into, as her reliance on his professionalism became a tangible thing. So, the thing he had desired, had been his snare after all. He chuckled and maneuvered his bulk charismatically.

"I'm waiting." He said, eyeing her again. That far away look had dissipated. Her eyes were clear and bright, very like her, not the troubled sad ones he'd become all too familiar with in the last several months.

"Michael....." she said then, a soft, unrushed quality permeating her thoughts, then she met his eyes, and he felt an electric shock all the way across the room. "I'm thinking yes. I will go solo. But I have an idea. I want to move out of So. Cal. Someplace else, possibly someplace remote. I've gotten a taste of what it's going to be like once my kids get in school....." she paused and then plunged ahead with usual forthrightness. "The boys have been teased because of who I am, and what is said about me in the media. I am photographed every day, a million times a day. I'm thinking of becoming more secluded in my home life, and less secluded in my business life."

Michael nodded. "So, you basically want your cake and eat it too."

"If I have to tour, then the kids come with me. If I can manage to not tour, then I'm home every day."

"Can you be gone at night?"

"You know I can."

"And you'd be comfortable leaving them at night?"

"Not every night. But if I put them to bed then what's the difference?"

"If we start local, and fly you there.... You could be there and be back.... I would have to work out these details. It takes a lot to put together a show the size we're talking. If you really are to go solo that is." He waggled his eyebrows at her for confirmation and she grinned.

"You better get on it, son." She said and bounced out of her seat. "I'm calling Andrea." She clicked her cell phone and turned away from Michael to look out over the golf course where she let her four little boys play. Was there anyplace as green?

Michael stood. He nodded to Armani who was now leaning contentedly against the wall watching the twins as well. "This is a good step." She said and Michael nodded, his mind already a million miles away and furiously moving through the procedure and the people he would need. Like Tracy, his energy was directed by the urgent.

"Andrea? Hi, it's Tracy. Fine thanks. No, I didn't see it, but that's why I'm calling. Yeah... let's take care of it, okay? I won't have that kind of stuff going unchecked." She clicked off and then looked at the twins who were getting a little restless and Melia glanced up at her mother and suddenly wanted her more than any flower petal ever created. Tracy glanced at Armani. Her look seemed to say, it's okay. I'm okay. And Armani believed her.

*****